


Love Ain't Easy and Coffee Don't Brew Itself

by Lunarflare14



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Baker Gabriel, Baker Sam Winchester, Barista Dean Winchester, Barista Meg Masters, F/M, Fluff, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarflare14/pseuds/Lunarflare14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is an unwilling barista at Demons Run Cafe. His boss makes his job a living hell, his co-workers suck, and he hates the coffee they serve but Dean is good at what he does. One day a man in a dirty trench coat walks in and becomes a Thursday regular.</p><p>Meanwhile, Sam is trying to get a law degree and not be molested by the new manager.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are so many Coffee Shop AUs and I love them all. I had to write one of my own.

Dean really hated this job.

Demons Run Café was in fact his least favorite job.

He only had two but the sentiment remained.

Dean poured the hot milk into the paper cup, watching it swirl with the mocha syrup. These kinds of drinks should be outlawed. Coffee was supposed to be bitter and latte’s and blended cappuccinos were really just coffee milkshakes.

He couldn’t really complain; working at Bobby’s shop part time didn’t pay the bills, especially not with Sam in college full time and the parts to get Baby back up to mint. Sam was working part time at a bakery at the end of the block, but it only did so much.

Dean didn’t hate the actual labor. Every cup was a work of fucking art. No one ever complained, no one ever asked for a new drink. All the regulars were a bunch of wackos but good people. The tips were great and they kept him sane with all the hipsters who passed through. Wasn’t there a Starbucks down the street they could exploit the wifi of? Honestly though, he was the best and he really should be manager. But the owner was reluctant to give him the title. The café was his favorite pet project, and he wanted to keep his puppet Crowley at the top.

It was Thursday, the slowest day of the week at Demons Run. Only a couple regulars came through and he may serve twenty or thirty people from one in the afternoon to close.  The lobby was empty save for Garth, a Tues/Thursday regular.

Dean handed Garth his cup. “Light Mocha, no whip.” Was that a-?

“Thanks, Deano.”

“Garth. What’s with the puppet?”

Garth frowned, confused. He looked at his other hand and laughed. “Oh right. Was looking after my sister’s kid. Guess, I forgot to take it off.” Garth raised his hand. “I call him Mr. Fizzles.”

Dean shook his head. “See you around, Garth.”

He turned back to the counter and started. A man in a long dirty trench coat stood waiting at the cash register. He hadn’t been there before. “Welcome to Demons Run.  What can I get you today?” The man stared blankly at him for a bit with these ridiculously blue eyes before turning his attention up to the menu behind Dean. Trench Coat didn’t blink once.

“I have never been to a coffee establishment before. I usually make my own coffee in the morning. What would you recommend?”

Dean blinked. “You’ve never bought coffee? Ever?”

“No.” The man didn’t elaborate.

“How do you usually make your coffee?” The man looked back at him, his stare becoming uncertain like Dean just asked his most precious secret. “I can get you anything from rots your teeth sweet, to taste bud dissolving bitter. Just tell me what you like.”

The man looked at the counter and muttered. “Cinnamon.”

“Like sweet stuff?”

“Yes.”

“Watching your figure?”

The man frowned, his face finally moving.

“Alright, then. Cinnamon Latte sound good? They’re like a cinnamon roll in a cup.” The man nodded. “Faaaantastic. Name?”

The man didn’t reply right away. Again, with the uncertainty.

“You forget it or something?”

“Castiel.”

Dean’s eyes went wide and he looked at the sharpie in his hand. He scribbled the order on the side and got out the letters C-A-S before he gave up. “Well, that will be two ninty-five, Cas.”

The man’s frown deeped. “My name is-“

“Yeah well, shorthand.” The man- Castiel swiped his card through the reader. “It’ll be at the end of the counter in a minute.”

“Thank you, Dean.” There was genuine gratitude in his voice that Dean wasn’t used to, and for a second Dean was surprised, then he remembered his name tag.

“No problem.”

He set off to make the drink, three shots of espresso, two shots of syrups, and a couple shakes of cinnamon topped off with warm milk. Dean swirled some whip cream on top with an extra shake of cinnamon for flare.

“Cas.” He called out. Castiel had been sitting at a small table with his hands folded on his lap, waiting patiently.  He looked up at the nickname. “Cas.” Castiel stood. He took the cup and looked it over. What he was looking for, Dean wasn’t sure. Rat poison maybe? Castiel blew into the cup a bit before taking a sip. His confusion turned to wonder as he looked up, eyes wide. Those big blue eyes stared into Dean. It was like he had just handed the guy the liquid key to happiness. “Good right?”

“Yes. Thank you- for helping.”

“Anytime.” Dean went to clean off the steamer, trying to be nonchalant. It was just coffee after all. When he looked back Castiel was gone, and an extra five was in the tip jar. At first he was confused because he didn't hear the door open. Dean smirked a little and committed it to memory; looked like he had a new Thursday guy.

When Dean got home after his shift, Sam was hunched over his laptop, typing like a mad man. “How goes the paper?”

“Going. If I had known Professional Ethics and Liability would be this big a pain in the ass I might have taken Real Estate Law instead.”

“Oh, cheer up, Sammy. I brought you something.” He held up the White Chocolate Latte he had made just before leaving work and set it down next to his brother.

“I swear Crowley lines this stuff with crack or something.”

“Probably.”

“How was work?”

Dean shrugged. “Surprising. Garth had a sock puppet, Crowley and Lucy were nowhere to be found, Meg called out ‘sick’ and I got a new regular. What about you? Anything new in the world of pastry?”

“Ha, freaking ha. The new manager is really… different. I just wish he wouldn’t eat half the crap we make or stare at me like he plans to eat me too.”

Dean smiled. “Awe, he likes you already?” He gave his brother an eyebrow wiggle.

Sam was not as amused. “It’s borderline sexual harassment.”

“It’s only harassment if you don’t enjoy it.” Dean laughed. “I’m telling you call Bobby. We could use you down at the yard.”

“Cars are your thing, Dean. You know it doesn’t pay what we need. You only keep the job because of the Impala.”

“I WILL get her running. So shut up and drink your poison.”

“Yes, sir.” He took a large gulp and went back to typing. “Hey, how is that girl you were seeing? Sheryl? Sharona?”

“Shannon and I aren’t together anymore.”

Sam laughed. “Did you choke or did she come to her senses?”

“A bit of both. I stopped calling her; she called me and told me we were over.”

“Wow. You are the most emotionally stunted human being on the planet.”

Dean opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. “Yeah, well, you are second runner up. Don’t make me start your laundry list of exes from recent years.”

“Not as long as yours.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean stood straighter. “Jess.”

“Anna.”

“Ruby.”

“Lisa.”

“Azazel.”

“That was one night! Okay fine, Charlotte.”

“Madison.”

“Not fair. But fine.” Sam set his eyes into a glare. “Crowley.”

“Ew, did you have to remind me of that? Really?”

“Hey, you opened with Jess.”

Dean growled. “This game is stupid.”

“Your face is stupid.” Sam went back to his paper again. Conversation over.

“Real mature.”

“Your face is-“

“Shut up and do your learnin’.”

Sam typed up a few more sentences while Dean sat in the living room and switched on the screen. “Wait, can we back up a minute? How do you know someone is going to be a regular if they only came around once?”

“The dude had this look on his face like I had just opened him up to all the possibilities of the universe with a single cup of coffee. He’ll be back.” Dean didn’t mention that he wanted the guy to come back because that was a messy thing he didn’t want to look at too closely.

Sam shrugged. “You say so.”

“I know so. If there is one God damn thing I know in this world it’s that coffee shop. I know a regular when I see one.”

 “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam’s new manager was not what Dean had pictured when Sam had described him the other day. First of all, the dude was short. Then again, to the Winchester brothers, everyone was kind of short. Next to his moose of a brother the guy only just passed his shoulder. He practically bounced around the shop while looking after customers and was also pretty skinny for a man with a sweet tooth.

Dean really didn’t want to approach the counter but it looked like Sam was in the back and Dean had left his cell at Demon’s Run.

“Hey there, handsome. What can I get ya?” The manager wiggled his eye brows ridiculously.

“Is Sam here?” Dean caught a glimpse of his name tag. Gabe the Babe. Somehow he managed not to burst into laughter.

Emotions flashed across Gabe’s face so quickly Dean only caught confusion and concern before it became unreadable. “Sure thing. Let me give him a holler.”

Dean nodded his thanks.

“Sweet cheeks! Got a gentlemen caller out front for you.” Dean rolled his eyes as his brother’s head poked around the corner, a telltale bitch face aimed right at the manager. Then he saw Dean and shook his head.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You got the rent check? Landlady from hell won’t stop riding me about it, figured I’d give it to her when she swings by the shop.”

Sam sighed. “I’ve got it. One sec.”

That left Dean alone with Gabe in the front while Sam went looking. He hoped that purposefully perusing the pie would deter him but instead, the manager slinked over and rested his folded arms up on the glass case. “A pie man?”

Dean smirked. “Damn straight.”

“Sam is a terrible pie maker.”

“Tell me about it.”

Gabe rested his head on his folded arms. “So how long have you known, Sam?”

Dean snorted. “Since our parents brought him home from the hospital. Ugly little thing.”

“Ooooh… you’re the brother.”

“Yeah. Name is Dean.”

Gabe stuck out his hand. “Gabriel.”

Dean shook it. “Do you prefer Gabe or your full title?”

Sam chose that moment to reappear and the shorter man couldn’t have grinned more if he tried. “Next to you? We’ll just go with Gabe.”

“Better not let Sam hear you say that. Might get the wrong idea.”

“Sammy’s a big boy. He’ll be right as rain.”

Dean didn’t say anything at the use of his pet name for Sam and Sam’s silence about it. Sam didn’t let anyone but Dean call him Sammy. Not if they said it every day for their entire acquaintance.

Unless he had a super crush on them.

That was about fifty shades of adorable.

“Have a good one, you two.” Dean grinned, giving Sam a look he hoped conveyed that he would never hear the end of this. If the bitch face he received in return was any indication, Sam got the message. Brotherly telepathy was awesome.

Dean hadn’t reached the end of the block before his

_Were you flirting with my manager?_

He snorted, as he texted back, _only a little._

The reply was immediate. _You shouldn’t encourage him._

Dean shook his head as he rounded the corner and headed to Demons Run. The fold out chalkboard sign set on the sidewalk out front didn’t list the day’s specials like it should. Instead it had a really cartoonish depiction of Grumpy Cat in their barista uniform and the caption, ‘I like my coffee like my soul; black and bitter’.”

The other side had Catbug holding a coffee cup saying ‘Everything is okay’.

Meg.

He opened the door with a little more force then was actually necessary. “Megan Elizabeth Masters.”

His coworker didn’t even flinch, flipping the page of her Beautiful/Decay magazine. “You’re really got to learn to appreciate art, Dean-o.”

“Art my ass. Stop drawing meme’s on the lunch board!”

Meg shrugged. “Customers like it.”

Shaking his head he threw on an apron. “Guess you got to use that art degree for something right?”

“At least I’ve got one, Mister GED.” She turned another page without even looking up.

After a minute Dean decided it was too much work to argue with her about fixing it. Instead he grabbed his visor and filled the espresso machine with more beans—Meg was too short to do it.

“I’m sticking around. Neighbor changed his Wi-fi password again.”

Dean shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She took up residence in her corner just behind the end of the counter, throwing her apron over the back of a chair and pulling out her Mac book and drawing tablet. “Could you make me my usual?”

“Will you actually pay for it?”

“I’ll give you a dollar.”

Dean let out a put upon sigh. “One Soy Chai, coming up.”

He went to get the Chai from under the counter and when he stood up he nearly jumped in surprise.

“Jesus, wear a bell or something. Would ya?”

Cas had just appeared at the counter as if out of nowhere, his big blue eyes confused by Dean’s outburst. It wasn’t that Dean had forgotten about the new regular from the week prior. He just expected to see the dude coming. A poorly concealed giggle was coming from Meg’s table.  “Hello, Dean.” Yup, guy still sounded like he needed a lozenge.

“Yo, what can I get you?”

Cas opened his mouth to answer but looked to get stuck before actual words came out. He set his expression with determination and continued. “While I enjoyed the beverage you composed last time, I wish to try something new.”

Dean shrugged. “Okie dokie, anything catch your eye?”

Cas looked up at the menu board, reading intently. “Hazelnut?”

“Well, we’ve got the regular Hazelnut latte and then there is our Nutella one which is freaking excellent.”

Cas’ eyes went wide. “I enjoy Nutella.” But the look on his face screamed something closer to ‘I am having a romantic affair with Nutella’.

Dean grinned. “One Nutella latte, coming right up.”

Meg popped around the corner. “What about my Chai?”

“Pay for your drinks sometime and I’ll make it a priority.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, but then caught sight of Cas. “Hey there, trench coat. You know it’s like eighty degrees outside.”

Dean rolled his eyes and continued making his customer’s drink.

The shorter man frowned at Dean’s coworker. “I was not aware of the exact temperature.”

It was hard to tell if Cas was being sarcastic or not, but Dean barked out a laugh anyway. Meg didn’t seem to know what to do. Instead of continuing what was probably a futile conversation she went back to doodling on her tablet.

“Don’t mind her.” Dean said gently, handing over the coffee with C-A-S scrawled neatly above the sleeve. “Try this on for size.”

The other man picked it up, eyeing it suspiciously just like last time. He put it to his lips and gingerly took a sip. Just like before, Cas face brightened. “This is very good.” This time, he actually smiled. But it was like Cas was unsure how too, or if smiling was even an appropriate response. It was open and honest and adorable. Grown men shouldn’t be allowed. Dean never wanted to think of another man as adorable again… well, another man who wasn’t Sammy. “I will definitely recommend this to my brother. He also enjoys Nutella.”

“Your brother from around here?”

“He moved to town a few weeks ago when he got a job at the bakery.”

Dean squinted. No. No way. “Gabe?”

Castiel blinked. “So, you’ve met him.”

“Yeah, this morning.” No way were those two related. “He adopted or something?”

“No.” Cas obviously didn’t understand.

Dean shrugged. “Just… I didn’t see the resemblance.”

Cas started another hesitant sentence. “Gabriel… does his own thing.” The words sounded like they should be in air quotes.

“I figured as much.”

Meg cleared her throat from her table. They both turned to see her with her hands on her hips. “If you’re done flirting, I’d like my chai.”

He glared at her. “You know what? You make it and keep your dirty money.” Cas looked mildly alarmed, and Dean laughed. “Oh, this is my dead beat coworker. I promise I don’t treat decent, paying customers like that.”

After a moment of looking between Meg and Dean, Cas nodded. “Of course. I knew that.” He looked down at the coffee cup. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

There was hesitation in the way Cas turned to leave and Dean thought about asking him to stay.  But the guy probably has to get back to work. He looked like a nine to five kind of guy. The moment passed though and Dean watched as Cas walked off down the street. Meg made a gag noise as she steamed the milk for her latte.

He threw her a glare before opening his phone’s browser and searched for ‘hanging doorbell’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I wrote another chapter. I said I might and left it open and I wrote it and I hate myself for having so many fics going at once. But I was I need of fluffy coffee shop goodness.


End file.
